Chapter Text
Three nights, Bilbo had sat just like this in bed, waiting for his husband to come home and spend the evening with him. Three nights! The first few he could understand. Thorin was a king, after all, and had many duties to attend to, but tonight, he truly needed the comfort. He had been looking forward to it through every dull meeting. Thorin wasn't the only one with duties. He had them, too. Ones that stole his free time and reduced him to taking meals while hunched over paperwork. Meetings that dragged on because how can anyone stay alert while talking about stone depth and its correlation to the pricing of precious minerals.
He closed his book without bothering to mark his place with an audible and annoyed huff. Fine. If his stubborn dwarven husband wouldn't come home, he would go to him.
Bilbo swung his legs off the bed and pulled on the thinnest and most conforming robe he could find. It was made out of a thin, shining material that Dori had bought from Gondor. Perfect for warm days in summer. It hugged the curves of his body, coming just above his ankles. He tied it off around his waist and let one shoulder fall, revealing his collarbone and upper chest. Then, he set off to find the King under the Mountain.
Bilbo threw open the front door leading out of the royal apartments, caring little of the sound it made so late into the night. His personal guard standing outside the door tensed, then straightened, before giving him an over-the-heart salute but faltered when they saw his state of undress.
“Y-your Majesty. Is there a problem?” Hagrras asked, looking directly into his eyes with conviction.
“No. I’m going to see the king. Follow if you must, but it’s not as if I’ll lose my way after nine years.” Bilbo started walking and heard the rustle of metal follow after him.
“We are approaching autumn, Your Majesty. You seem to have forgotten a coat. Please take my furs.” Hagrras sounded panicked as they walked past a guard post. Bilbo saw several guards do a double-take as he passed.
“How long have you been my personal guard, Hagrras?” Bilbo asked, nodding to the other guards and continuing on.
“Seven years, Your Majesty.”
“Do I do anything without reason?” Bilbo asked idly.
“No, Your Majesty, you do not.”
“Then I will not need your furs, but I do thank you for the thought, and I'll make sure Thorin knows my thanks as well.”
Haggras's face relaxed only a fraction, but he still looked concerned, and it didn't escape Bilbo's notice that when they passed the second guard post, he was walking next to him and glaring at his fellow dwarves. Thorin’s office door was in sight up the stairs to the right of the throne room.
“Please let me walk up first, Your Majesty.” Hagrras practically begged. Bilbo waved him forward, and he let out a thankful breath. Dwalin halted them before they reached the top of the steps but put down his hand when he saw him.
“He’s asked not ta be disturbed. Something about paperwork before court tomorrow.” Dwalin's eyebrows shot into his non-existent hairline when he finally got a proper look at him. He averted his gaze in a coughing fit immediately. “Right, in you go then. I wouldn’t dare keep you outside looking like that. Thorin would have my head.” He opened the door and shut it quickly behind him. Thorin didn’t even look up from the papers under his nose.
“Dwalin, I’ll be at least another forty-five minutes. If Nori is waiting for you, then go. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you assume no one is waiting for you then?” Bilbo’s clear annoyance seeped into his tone. Thorin’s head bolted up. He looked about to speak, but no words came out as his piercing blue eyes dragged themselves over his frame, growing ever wider.
“Please tell me you didn’t walk all the way from our rooms to here dressed like that.” Thorin’s voice caught deep in the back of his throat like he was strangling something, and he shifted in his chair.
“What other choice did I have when the only other times I’ve seen my husband in three days is in meetings and when he wakes me to slip into bed!” Bilbo walked right up to Thorin’s desk, setting aside his papers and pens so he could hop up to take a seat. He was nearly at eye level with him this way. “Should I be worried that you seem to have so little problem being away from me?” It was the question weighing on his mind all day, though it felt heavier now that he had given it a voice. His boldness from moments ago waned, and he felt far more self-conscious sitting on the desk in so little. Something in what he said knocked Thorin out of his speechlessness, and he cradled Bilbo's head in his forge warn hands.
"No, please don't think that. Time just got away from me, that's all. It was never my intention to neglect you." Thorin's words and tone were genuine, and it made him breathe easier.
"Well, you have neglected me, but I suppose you are king, and your work for the kingdom comes first." He hadn't meant for it to sound so bitter. Casting his eyes away from his husband's face, he attempted to slip from the desk but was stopped when large hands settled on his hips.
"It doesn't come first. It should, but it doesn't. Let me make my absence up to you." Thorin started pressing kisses along his neck in such a lovely manner that he temporarily lost the ability to think. He curled his hands to those raven locks and failed to control his breathing. Eventually, Thorin halted his assault on his neck. "So, did you walk through the halls of Erebor past at least two guard posts in nothing but a criminally thin robe to seduce me away from my work?" Thorin asked, running his hands along the material and making Bilbo shiver.
"Is it working?" Bilbo purred.
"The day it doesn't, you have my permission to hand the crown to Fili and have me declared dead." Thorin went for his mouth this time, tilting his head back and pushing past his lips to taste him. He melted into the touch, letting out a soft, happy moan. Thorin seemed eager to make up for lost time with the way he was devouring his mouth, and soon, he felt the tie holding his robe together get pulled loose. When Thorin’s hand met warm skin, he groaned and slid Bilbo to the front of the desk to grind against him. “You truly wore nothing under this rode. It makes me wonder how many guards wish they were king for reasons other than power tonight.” Thorin nipped at the tip of his ear and watched him tremble with ever-growing need.
“We should return to our rooms so you can make the last three days up to me properly.” Bilbo panted.
“I’m not waiting until we make it back to our room, ghivashel.” Thorin reached behind him and swiped everything off his desk and onto the floor before pulling off his fur jacket and leaning Bilbo back onto it.
“You’ll regret doing that when this is over, you know.” Bilbo laughed.
“Then I’ll regret it later.”
Bilbo felt like he was being unwrapped like a present as Thorin pushed back the robe's fabric and ran his hands down the length of his body with a hungry look in his eyes. When he was unwrapped, he got to enjoy watching his husband discard many of the layers keeping that golden scarred skin from him. He surged up, intending to meet the handsome dwarf’s lips again but quick as lightning and with frightening ease, he turned him around until his ass was in Thorin’s face. He barely had time to protest before a warm, wet tongue was licking at his entrance, sending his mind into a pleasure-filled fog. Every time Thorin’s tongue worked its way deeper, he let out a breathy moan that disabled him further. Desperately, he brought his hand to his cock, seeking the friction he dearly needed, only to have his hand swatted away to be replaced by Thorin’s.
"By the will of the damn green lady, please fuck me.” Bilbo was riding on the edge of his pleasure. Throin’s tongue, combined with the scruff of his beard, was building his need and pulling sounds out of him he didn’t even know he was capable of making. He wanted his dwarf in him more and more every second. The drawer on the desk opened, and an oiled finger slid into him. Slow at first but faster as Thorin realized that his tongue had loosened most of the way.
“If you keep wiggling your ass at me like an invitation, I’m going to get impatient,” Thorin warned as the third finger slipped into him. Bilbo slopped his back as far as it could go and looked over his shoulder with a mischievous grin. The next thing Bilbo comprehended was getting fucked over the desk hard and fast. The thrusts stole the air from his lungs and made him whine and whimper. Thorin eventually pulled out and bid him turn around so he could see him. He loved the way Thorin looked when he was taking him. Pure concentration, teetering on the edge of falling apart.
“Ah…ah! Th-Thorin I-I’m,” Bilbo mumbled, his moans becoming sharp and disjointed. Thorin wound his hand around Bilbo’s back, propping him up.
“Me too. Oh Mahal, I love you so much, Bilbo.” Thorin whispered into his ear before they both went rigged with a cry. Thorin helped him through his orgasm, running his fingers through his curls as he always did and peppering him with kisses. “Have I at least paid some atonement for my neglect?” Thorin teased.
“I suppose so.” Bilbo teased back. “We should go home now, though. I want a bath, and I’m exhausted.” He slipped off the table and vastly underestimated his body’s readiness for such a task. He buckled immediately, only to be scooped up and sat back down gently. Thorin kissed his forehead and redressed him in his robe, adding his coat as an extra layer. When he was satisfied with the state of him, he scooped Bilbo up and nuzzled him to his chest. Bilbo sighed, content to be catered to, and slung his arms around his husband's neck. “Aren't you worried about the papers all over the place?” Bilbo asked, surveying the mess.
“Something to worry about tomorrow, not today.”